


you can't cheat death when you're digging your own grave

by grabmyboner



Series: the three amigos [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Car Accidents, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead Neil Hargrove, Drunk Driving, Fuck that man, Good Sibling Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Harringrove, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, Other, The Author Regrets Nothing, and i would do it again your honour, billy doesnt know how to feel, max is sad for billy cause she loves her big brother, no one knows anything, steve doesnt know what to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grabmyboner/pseuds/grabmyboner
Summary: “Dead?”The word echoes in Billy’s head. It doesn’t sound like an actual word. You know when you repeat a word so many times, it doesn’t sound real anymore?He whispers it again. Feels the exhale of air ghosts over his lips. Feels the heat from the breath.Max’s hair tickles at his arm, where she’s pressed her face, looking up at him with glassy eyes.He looks down at her, his free arm moving to pat a heavy hand over the fiery red. She closes her eyes at the touch.“Yeah,” Steve says.-Neil Hargrove dies and Steve is the one to tell Billy and Max.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: the three amigos [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585912
Comments: 16
Kudos: 143





	you can't cheat death when you're digging your own grave

**Author's Note:**

> helllooooooooo. long time no see. i just wanted neil to die, that's the only reason I wrote this fic. so yep, that it. 
> 
> thanks for reading! comments are always welcome :) 
> 
> \- 
> 
> title is from fire by pvris

“Dead?” 

The word echoes in Billy’s head. It doesn’t sound like an actual word. You know when you repeat a word so many times, it doesn’t sound real anymore? 

He whispers it again. Feels the exhale of air ghosts over his lips. Feels the heat from the breath. 

Max’s hair tickles at his arm, where she’s pressed her face, looking up at him with glassy eyes. 

He looks down at her, his free arm moving to pat a heavy hand over the fiery red. She closes her eyes at the touch. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, he’s sitting on the coffee table in front of them—-He thinks it’s weird he notices how stained the material of the couch is at a time like this. 

Billy looks up at Steve, hand still lulling over Max’s hair. 

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

Steve nods and rests a hand on Billy’s knee. 

“Hopper checked himself.”

Billy focuses on Steve’s hand burning through his jeans. 

“How?” He hears himself say. 

Steve squeezes his knee and sighs, “Does it matter?” 

Blue eyes shoot up to stare into the honey brown, his nostrils flaring with a sudden rage forming in his once numb body. 

“How did my fucking  _ father _ fucking  _ die _ , Harrington?” 

Max holds his arm tighter, pressing her face deeper into his sleeve. They’ll be a red mark on her cheek from the pressure. 

He watches Steve pull his hand away and gnaw at his bottom lip, brows pulled in tight. Billy wants to press his thumb over the frown and knead it out. 

“Driving home from that bar over in Oakdale, had one too many whiskies, drove straight into a ditch. Flipped the car on its roof, and…” He pauses, looking down at Max.

“And?” Billy urges, his voice sounding strained. 

Steve clears his throat, “And, he was stuck, upside... for a few hours, I-- He, uh--” 

“Out with it, Harrington!” Billy barks.

Steve grimaces and sighs out a heavy breath. 

“The medical examiner told Hop that the human body can’t stay upside down for hours on end. Gravity does a toll on your organs, they all begin-- _ uh _ , c-crushing your lungs... More blood than usual is going towards your heart, so, umm your heart is tryin’ extra hard to pump it all. Blood starts to pool in your brain, and if you don’t die from choking on your own lungs, then your heart will give out or your brain will like  _ hemorrhage _ ?” 

Steve takes a deep breath and reaches out to take Max’s hand that’s squeezed into a fist. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, watching the colour bleed back into her pale skin. 

“It takes a long time for that to happen,” Steve continues, looking up from Max to stare at Billy again, “He would have been like that for close to, like, 8 hours, he died at around 4am -- his heart gave out. Susan told Hop that he had been having heart problems, the added stress was what caused it to finally give out.” 

Billy’s jaw is tensing, teeth aching from the force, he bites his tongue to change the type of pain. It doesn’t help the hollow pit in his stomach ease up.

“Bill--he, it, uh- _ fuck _ ... it would have been a slow, uncomfortable death. He woulda’ been conscious for a lot of it.” 

There’s a long silence, Billy is staring at Steve, but it’s more like he’s looking through him. Looking into nothing, completely lost to the world around him. 

Max’s small sniffle is what breaks Billy out of his trance. 

“Good,” Billy says. 

“ _ Billy-- _ ” Steve replies, voice soft and tired. 

“He deserved it.” Billy interrupts, “He was a shit person, who did shit fucking things.” He gets up abruptly, prying his arm from Max’s hold, she falls forward slightly, against the space on the couch he was occupying. Steve moves his hand up to her shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before he turns to look up at Billy. 

He paces back and forth, staring at his feet and biting at the skin on his thumb. He stops and his hands come up to fist at his hair, he faces Steve as he pulls at his hair and  _ yells _ .

Billy screams a long-winded sound that echos in the room, it hoarse and pained and it makes Steve’s heartbreak. He’s cut off by a sob as he stumbles to his knees, his hands landing in front of him with a loud thud. 

Stumbling towards him, Steve falls to the ground and wraps his arms around Billy, awkwardly pulling him against his chest in a tight hug. Billy is half sprawled on top of him, left side of his body finding solace against Steve’s frame. His right-hand pulls across his body, clutching at Steve’s shirt. He hides his face against Steve’s throat. 

Sobs wrack through his chest, vibrating against Steve. Max slowly joins them, pulling one of Steve’s arms from Billy and slips into the embrace, pulling the limb back around her. 

“I hate him!” Billy cries, lips brushing over Steve’s neck, “I  _ hated  _ him, I fucking hated him.” He gasps for air, “I’m glad he’s dead,  _ fu- _ d-does that make me a terrible fucking person?” 

“No,” Steve breathes, rocking him back and forth slightly, “No. it doesn’t.” 

“I hate him, I’m glad he’s dead,” Billy says, barely above a whisper. 

Max swallows a hiccup and lets out an unsteady breath. 

The sobs don’t stop for a while, slowly turning into a silent cry. Steve just holds both of them as tight as he can. Max’s hair sticks to his skin and tangles between the three of them. It smells like coconut and cigarette smoke. 

He keeps kissing the top of Billy’s head, whispering soothing words and hopes they provide some sort of comfort. 

He will hold them for as long as they need.

For as long as they want. 


End file.
